Unsteady on her sandaled feet, Sunshine climbed the stairs leading up from the French Quarter levee to the Moonwalk. A bit high and a more than a little distracted, she tripped and almost fell. She hesitated on the walkway, looked out across the Mississippi at the riverboat Natchez, a glittering beacon of lights sparkling against the dark water. Live jazz music drifted across the distance in cheerful waves. The Big Easy was a city that never slept, not even on Sunday night. That positive energy was one of the things she loved about New Orleans. The southern nights could be as warm and seductive as a lover.
She’d discovered that those southern nights, and the Big Easy itself, could also be as dark and as cold as the Mississippi depths.
Sunshine was her real name—her middle name, anyway. She liked it better than the first name her mother had inflicted upon her. She’d left that behind, along with her old life, even before she’d chased her elusive dreams to San Francisco. She hadn’t found her pot of gold at the end of that particular rainbow, either, so she’d left California behind, had come to New Orleans to build a new life in the bohemian atmosphere of the French Quarter. Unfortunately, that smaller, simpler dream had been more difficult to find, to hold on to, than she’d expected. Her hopes, her plans, her dreams had shattered in the atmosphere of plentiful booze, all-night parties, and easy drugs that permeated the Quarter. Trapped amid the “easy” of it, she had sunken into a cycle of despair and anger. She’d lost everything that she’d brought with her—love, friendship, and finally, hope. She’d lost her way.
She would change all that tonight. She had a new dream, and she would make this one work.
Shoving her shoulder-length, bleached-blonde hair out of her face, she looked to the right, toward the bright glowing lights of the Aquarium of the Americas and the Riverwalk shopping mall where the Moonwalk began. Like the riverboat, it cast an almost magical glow, just out of reach—just like the life she wanted so badly.
But she finally had a chance to put it all back on track. Sunshine squared her shoulders, wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans, and took a deep breath. At last she had a real shot at happiness—if she could just get through this night, this one last task. She turned to the left and looked down the path to where the concrete ribbon of the Moonwalk disappeared into the shadowed darkness behind the Jax Brewery. Only gutter bums and the occasional street musician hung out beyond the lights. Most who knew the Quarter avoided the dark end of the Moonwalk at night, especially if they were alone. Sunshine told herself she wouldn’t be here either, if she thought she had a choice.
Something on the ground caught her attention. She moved closer. Someone—probably a tourist—had left one of those fake Voodoo dolls lying on the walkway. She walked over to it and poked it with her toe, trying to ignore the feeling of dread that crawled up her back. It was just a toy, nothing more. Drawing in another deep breath, praying she wasn’t making a huge mistake, Sunshine walked into the shadows.
* * *
Mouse just wanted a place to sleep where no one would hassle him. With a bottle of his favorite juice to keep him company, he headed for a secluded spot down by the river, a safe place hidden deep in shadow. But when he pulled the hedges aside he found someone was already there, sleeping in his spot.
His first reaction was indignant anger. It was still early by Quarter standards. No one should be crashing in his spot. He pulled out his little flashlight and flicked it on, meaning to wake the bitch up and make her move on. But then, when he saw the blood that stained her face and soaked her t-shirt, he realized that the blonde girl wasn’t just sleeping. It took a few seconds more for his fogged brain to notice the fluffy bits of red-streaked white that lay scattered around the girl’s thin body. In morbid fascination he picked one up of the pieces. The bloody head of a decapitated chicken stared back at him. Mouse jerked back, throwing the gory thing down. Scrambling up the bank toward the light, he left a trail of scarlet footprints as he ran. His prized bottle, forgotten, stood amidst the destruction like an offering left on a desecrated altar.
For the first time in his life, Mouse actually wanted to find a cop.